alone?
by names are hard guys
Summary: When Doumeki dies, Watanuki spends the next few weeks expecting to see him in his dreams, like he still sees Haruka sometimes, but he never comes. Haruka comes to talk to him about it.


Literally two other people have done my prompt, but then they requested that I had to do it too. Thus this.

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Doumeki came by less and less frequently, near the end. Watanuki understood, he supposed, but it felt odd not to have him around. Not every day, as he had in the past, but far too often to be welcome, or anything other than normal.

Watanuki knew the moment it happened, somehow, and the call from Kohane wasn't unexpected.

Condolences were offered, and Watanuki was assured by all that all the rites and rituals were done properly. It didn't stop him from nitpicking every detail, and ensuring that everything was done accordingly, despite not being present for the whole affair.

Mokona accused him of being nitpicky because he was sad, and offered to listen, but Watanuki waved him off.

Maru and Moro gave him sad looks, but Watanuki patted them on the head and offered to play games with them.

Doumeki's children, and grandchildren, too, stopped by to offer Watanuki condolences in person on their father's passing. Kohane didn't stop by - hadn't for some time, it was too difficult - but Watanuki sent well wishes and gifts to her.

The whole affair was understated and simple and so very Doumeki. At the same time, it was surreal, to think he would never see him again. For all that he spent a good deal of time pushing Doumeki out, to actually have him gone… It didn't feel quite right.

But time moves on, life moves on, and death is part of that cycle.

Watanuki spent the first night almost expecting him to show up, but he dreamed instead of Sakura in Clow, and assured her of Syaoran's safety.

Even she mentioned that he seemed sad, but Watanuki smiled and told her everything was fine. He was just tired. She looked concerned, and put a hand on his cheek, telling him that he was allowed to be upset, if there was something sad.

He woke, with tears on his face, but he wiped them away quickly, before the girls could see. Mokona caught him though, and frowned. Watanuki shook his head, and Mokona bounded off.

The second and third nights were spent dreamlessly, and Watanuki wasn't sure if he wanted it or not. If he dreamed, he might see Doumeki again, as he saw Haruka sometimes, but if he didn't, then he was saved the answer to that question, and he could imagine whatever he pleased.

On the fourth night, Watanuki found himself on the porch of the shop as a familiar shape approached from inside.

There was a small leap in his chest at the outline - so obviously Doumeki - but when the figure came into the light, Watanuki found it was the wrong Doumeki.

"Haruka-san," Watanuki said with a nod.

"Watanuki-kun," Haruka said as he sat, offering a cigarette to Watanuki. "I heard about Shizuka."

"From whom?" Watanuki couldn't help but ask as he took the offered cigarette.

Haruka smiled, and Watanuki worked to find Doumeki in it, but it wasn't there. It had been years since Doumeki looked so young - decades, even - and he never smiled like that in the first place.

"Keep your ghost secrets then," Watanuki teased with a frown.

Haruka raised an eyebrow, then put his chin in his hand, and they both turned to watch peach blossoms float in the wind of a dreamscape. Fitting.

"He won't come, Watanuki-kun," Haruka said after a long moment, and something tightened in Watanuki.

"I wasn't-"

"He was never a dreamwalker, like me. Never had a predilection to such things."

Suddenly, Watanuki's mouth felt dry and his throat was tight and he couldn't swallow.

Haruka turned to face Watanuki again, with a soft smile on his face.

"Watanuki-kun, he's moving on. Let him do so."

Watanuki nodded, still unable to form words, then woke in his bed with a crumpled cigarette in his hand.

He laid there for a long moment, finally letting the tears fall. Maru and Moro found him, and laid on either side of him, mourning as well. Mokona, too, joined in, and they spent the morning in bed, comforting each other in presence, if not words.

Later, he would set up a small memorial for Doumeki. Eventually one for Himawari, and Kohane, and their children, and their children's children. Incense would be burned, offerings made, and prayers given daily, as was traditional for family.

But it was unlikely that anyone would ever put up a shrine for him. He would live far longer than everyone he loved, and until the day he eventually died, he'd remain on alone.


End file.
